50 Pieces
by MomentaryInjustice
Summary: The first step to any puzzle is to sort the pieces. A series of short, interconnected scenes concerning the crew of the Enterprise over the course of time. Most are to long to be drabbles but to short to be their own story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

These pieces are not necessarily in chronological order. Each piece was written based on a randomly generated word, and this could explain a lot of the randomness of the stories. In this chapter you'll find some Nyota/Spock, Chekov/Sulu, and implied McCoy/Chapel. I don't own Star Trek... unfortunately. I'm not that creative. Reviews are always appreciated. Enjoy!

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1. **Solitaire**

His quarters aboard the _Enterprise_ were quiet, relatively uncluttered, and painted in the standard Starfleet gray. He was currently occupying the bedroom. His legs were crossed in meditation as a few gradually melting candles burned around him. Spock searched his mind for a focal point around which to gain his serenity.

A few small clicks... followed by a few more... and then another few. They came in rapid bursts of three or four. His eyes still shut Spock inclined his head towards the door. The sound stopped momentarily, but as soon as he began to center yet again, it resumed. He knew well what was happening... and he also knew that she didn't intend it to be such a disruption.

"Nyota..." He called calmly from his position in the bedroom. His voice was barely above a whisper and yet she could still hear him clearly. "I may remind you that clicking faster will not make the cards travel faster. You need only to click twice." With that said, Spock returned to his meditation.

In the open living area of the apartment, from her position folded on the couch, Uhura blushed, smiled, and minimized the game she was playing. She really needed to find something to do while Spock meditated besides play solitaire.

2. **Cat**

"Awww... but Bones... why can't we keep him?" Kirk whined loudly, sounding more like a four year old than a starship captain.

"Because Jim, it's a wild animal, not a damn house pet." McCoy snapped loudly at his friend. "And I don't _like_ animals."

"But I promise I'll take care of him! I promise... feed him... water him... bathe him... all that stuff that living things need. I'm good at that." Those puppy eyes... those pleading puppy eyes were turned in McCoy's direction. Apparently growing cold to this form of charisma, McCoy only snorted...

"Like you did with the fish... and the Orion lizard... and then there was that beast we picked up on Delta Vega... how did those turn out? I'm not gonna take on _another_ damn screaming animal only to have to put it out of its misery three days later. A starship isn't a place for animals."

"But Bones..." Kirk tried again, his best whine. He turned the animal to show is chief medical officer. "He's _so_ cute."

"No. No. No." McCoy didn't want to concede aloud that the damn thing _was_ cute. "No animal Jim.... especially not a damn cat. End of conversation."

"But!" Kirk called after Bones as he turned away. "But I've already given him a name..." For some reason this made McCoy turn around... Kirk's smile was wide and childlike.

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"Spock."

"Oh! In that case my answer _is _different..." Kirk's eyes widened.

"Yea?"

"_Hell_ no."

3. **Open**

Nyota stormed out of the bathroom, fury evident across her face. Spock looked up calmly from his book and then raised an eyebrow. She was half naked, he noticed, her pants were missing... Spock opened his mouth to question, but she cut him off.

"You know, you say you're half Vulcan, but I would beg to differ! You have to be entirely human. I mean... look at these pants... they're ruined." She held up a pair of black dress pants with a giant wet stain in the rear. He was having trouble seeing how this connected. There was a moment of silence where she waited for him to apologize.

Sensing his inadequacy, she clarified, "I swear to God, Spock, if you leave the damn toilet seat open one more time I'm going to kick your ass." After throwing her pants at him so they hit him squarely in the face, she turned and retreated to the bathroom yet again.

Spock removed the pants from his face, folded them, and placed them on the couch. He allowed himself a small smile as he returned to the book he was reading. Some habits, however distinctly human, _were_ hard to break.

4. **Damn**

The distressed teenager crumpled up yet another sheet of precious paper and tossed it haphazardly over his shoulder. The ball rolled around a bit and finally settled into a continually growing pile where its other companions had been tossed in the same manner. A few Russian curses escaped the mouth of the writer as he ran a pale hand through his bright red hair. "I just don't know what to say!" He exclaimed to no one in particular.

"What's up?" A voice sounded from the doorway. Chekov didn't have time to turn around. He was to distressed. When one was trying to pour his feelings on paper and coming up with nothing but blanks... well, that was quite distressing. "Don't know what to say about what?" It didn't click that the voice was familiar.

"I'm trying to find the perfect way to tell Sulu I'm falling for him... and it just won't happen." Chekov sighed. "I just want him to like me... and know that I like him... alot." Tears stung the corner of his eyes but he brushed them away and picked the pen again. The voice had gone silent.

"Well..." The voice was now closer. "What exactly would you say?"

"That I think he's great... and smart... and beautiful... and I would be perfectly content to spend the rest of my days with him... that I..." He tossed the pen away. "Why is it so hard to tell him that I _love_ him."

"Well then maybe you should just say it." The completely unperturbed voice angered Chekov. Here he was spilling his soul and whatever asshole was listening didn't even have the decency to sound sympathetic. The boy rounded on the voice, prepared to give him a through tongue lashing... but he stopped dead in his spin.

In front of him Hikaru Sulu stood with his hands in his pockets, a broad smile across his face. Chekov's eyes widened; a crooked nervous smile appeared on his face... he muttered...

"Damn."

5. **Circus**

Sometimes McCoy got the feeling that they were all involved in an highly elaborate circus... except they weren't the main act... no, they weren't even in the tent. Sometimes McCoy figured they were just the damn freak show. It was that particular thought McCoy nursed this evening as he consumed his daily whiskey.

Look at Chekov, boy genius. No one should be able to have graduated high school at fourteen. No one should have been able to graduate Starfleet at seventeen. He was almost as awkward and displaced as the boy who had been raised by wolves, drug into face paced society and made into a show for those that could never reach that level of wild intelligence.

Then there was Spock... green blood and lack of emotion... now that was a winning combo. By engaging both the physical and the mental, he was a sure crowd pleaser. Maybe he was the man who could swallow fire and keys... or the one man who could bring medical record of all the strange devices removed from his body including but not limited to a light bulb, a machete, and a live hamster.

And Nyota? Well... she was pretty... but she was smart. A really pretty version of the bearded lady? There weren't many roles for women in the circus freak show. No... she was probably the woman who could tie herself into knots. Very flexible... he liked the idea of her in tights. He would have to ask Spock later in the flexible adjective was appropriate.

With a visible shudder McCoy sat his glass aside. When thoughts turned to asking about Nyota and sex... especially _Spock_ and Nyota and sex... that was when he stopped drinking. Some things were to freaky to think about, even for the circus.

6. **Glass**

Kirk's eyes opened wide, staring at the small crack in the corner of his helmet. Or at least it was small to seconds ago... it was growing. "Shit. Shit. Shit." He repeated loudly. "I need another helmet."

The crack grew across the glass in front of his vision. It would shatter soon. This wasn't good. He knew this wasn't good. He had seen that early 20th century movie, _Total Recall_... a man had cracked his helmet on Mars and the pressure difference had killed him in seconds. Eyes bulging out of his head... That wasn't particularly the 'blaze of glory' Kirk had dreamed about dying in. Maybe the pressure wasn't that different. _You wouldn't have to wear this damn thing in the first place_... Kirk's inner logic reminded him.

"Please!" Kirk pleaded into the microphone. "Someone get me out of here before this thing goes!" The sickening sound of broken glass. Wasn't this shit supposed to be unbreakable? He felt the pressure build in the back of his eyes... He tried to stagger a plea through a swollen tongue. It was to late.

In a tangle of sheets, Kirk sat bolt upright. He was in his quarters. His body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. His heart raced... It took him moments to assure himself this wasn't some sick version of heaven or really uneventful hell. He realized he was breathing. His eyes felt normal. He realized something else also... something he should have realized after the _Narada_.

James Kirk realized he too was mortal.

7. **Chocolate**

"Well..." Montgomery Scott didn't dare look James Kirk in the eyes. "I must admit I dinna really know that it would put 'im in this state." But he didn't really think that Kirk was buying it. The entire bridge was deadly quiet as a majority of them stared at Scotty. From behind the crew a large thunderous snore. Kirk reminded himself that right now he needed to be the captain and not laugh... but it was hard.

Everyone's attention turned to Spock who was currently splayed prone in his command chair. It was uncommon to see him unraveled, but for the sake of his dignity they all tried to avert their eyes and not take pictures for later blackmail. Kirk felt it prudent to return to his lecture..."Common knowledge! Mr. Scott..." Another snore. Kirk bit his cheek. Stay professional, he reminded himself again. "Everyone on crew knows to keep Spock away from _chocolate_."

Another loud snore cut across the speech. Spock stirred and set intently awake. His hands were pressed to his temple, and he seemed to be a very vicious shade of green. "It would be wise for me to find a restroom..." Spock's departure was followed by silence and then a hitch of laughter from the communications center. Nyota was laughing... and soon everyone else had joined in. Kirk tried. He tried for Spock's sake. He tried not to laugh, but the action was futile.

"Now I'm gonna be walking into a Klingon dignitary dinner with a first officer who has a horrible hangover..." Kirk gasped between bellows of laughter. "That will be _terribly_ enjoyable."

8. **Hockey**

"God... it's brutal." Sulu said with an intake of breath as he watched two men slam against each other on the glass in front of the bleachers. One of them, he didn't know which, left a trail of blood as he skated off. They were on a two day shore leave and Sulu had made the mistake of saying he had never seen a live action hockey game. Chekov could have nearly lost his balance as far as his jaw dropped.

"We are going to see one then... take a shuttle to Wancouwer or something." Now Sulu was unsure of why he had agreed. He was all for hand to hand combat... but fencing was _civilized_. This... this was just pure brutality as men chased after a small hard disk. Chekov, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. It figured that his gentle soul would enjoy a good public showing of brutality.

Why had he agreed to come? Sulu questioned himself as he tried to focus on anything but the violence. Oh yea... that's right. He loved the way Pavel had said Vancouver. It had made him giddy, and for the same self serving purpose he had let Pavel order the tickets - a thirty minute ordeal during which he said Vancouver four more times. Each time a giant smile appeared on Sulu's face. He laughed out loud.

"You are enjoying the game then?" Chekov asked, his bright blue eye's shining with glee. He was about to answer but the boy's attention had turned back to the game. He was still wearing that grin.

Sulu reasoned that he _could_ learn to love hockey... because hockey made Chekov happy.

9. **Men**

It was an unusually quiet day aboard the _Enterprise_. Spock and Kirk were engaged in a particularly heated game of tri-level chess, encouraged by McCoy's constant taunts to each of them. Nyota Uhura had abandoned the group for a new issue of XenoToday and a corner of the recreation room that was unoccupied. Christine Chapel joined her moments later and opened her own magazine.

"They actually make guides for dating humanoid species?" Christine asked after a while. Uhura nodded and then smiled.

"It's a lot more tricky than it sounds." She laughed. "And it sounds pretty damn tricky." She returned to reading. There were moments of semi-silence in which McCoy whispered quite loudly that Kirk shouldn't take that kind of intellectual beat down from his first officer. He needed, apparently, to pull some rank on Spock's ass.

"Nyota, Has Spock ever done anything romantic?"

"No." It was a quick and concise. There was no debating that Spock was _never_ going to be romantic.

"Doesn't that kind of piss you off? Do you ever work yourself up because you want him to do something and then he completely falls through on the romantic side?"

"No." Again, a concise answer. Christine sighed. "Look, I don't expect anything... and then I'm not disappointed." She added from behind her magazine... "Let me guess, McCoy screwed something up?"

"Yep. I don't even think he knows.." The other woman admitted. Smiling to herself, Nyota put down her magazine. She winked at Christine... They could fix that.

"Well, take my advice Christine." She said loudly. "You should find yourself a humanoid... they might not be as romantic but they are certainly worth it in _other_ aspects. Aspects in which, apparently, _he_ is lacking..."

"Perhaps you're right, Uhura..." Christine played along. "There's that nice looking Andronian that works in Engineering, right? He would _never_ forget my birthday."

10. **Young**

Kirk had never thought about his other duties as captain of the _Enterprise_ until now. Until that point, it meant commandeering the flagship and going where no one had ever gone before, exploration and adventure. Now Kirk realized it meant breaking certain pieces of horrible news to his friends. It meant breaking hearts.

Uhura had received the transmission from Starfleet about an hour ago. It had taken Kirk forty five minutes to plan out how he was going to say everything, how he was going to keep his emotions in check. It only took two minutes for those plans to come crashing down around him as the young Russian buckled to his knees on the floor.

He had never been particularly parental, but now as Chekov clung to his shirt and cried Kirk awkwardly ran a hand on his back and muttered that it would be okay when he knew this this was a lie. It wouldn't be okay for a long time. The raw emotion from the boy made him cringe and curse. God was unpleasant and unfair. Chekov had done nothing wrong, he reminded the deity. He was only seventeen damn it! Almost to young to serve on a starship... and _definitely_ to damn young to lose his mother.

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**A/N:**

There's a lot of humor in this chapter, and I found that my other chapters really don't contain that much. My particular favorite for this chapter had to be number 2... something about that exchange between McCoy and Kirk seems to jump off of the paper. I didn't particularly like number 9... writing it took a while because I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to outcome to be. I'm still not sure what the outcome was. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading these. I enjoyed writing them. Review and stay on the lookout for more!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

In this chapter you'll find some lovely Chekov/Sulu, McCoy/Chapel, Spock/Nyota, and implied Alternate!Kirk/Spock Prime... it's a buffet of relationships. Spock may seem a bit OOC, I'm still not sure. I have trouble getting the mix of emotions and Vulcan right... and his speech seems very mechanical. There is also a shameless piece of nothing but complete dialog as a tribute to my laziness. All knowledge about Kirk's step-dad is of my own creation... Thanks for reading this far! Once again, I don't own Star Trek. Enjoy! (And review...)

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11. **Jump**

As a child there had been two rules in the household ruled by his step-father. The first was that when Jim was asked to jump, the reply was _always_ to ask how high. Secondly, Jim was _always_ to jump up to and beyond that height, no matter the physical or mental damages that would ensue. As a child he had hated it, and as an adult he hated it even more.

He realized now how cruel it was to demand action from some one with little explanation as to why they were putting themselves at risk. To be allowed unrestricted power over a person or group of people was to become tyrannical. Jim would not allow himself this luxury. He demanded to be questioned. Every reckless action, every executive decision, it was imperative that it was questioned. Checked. Balanced. Corrected. Reprimanded. Perfected.

Starfleet taught a lot about positive leadership, but the lessons that had made Kirk an effective captain of the _Enterprise_ came from first hand exposure to negative leaders and a desire to refrain from seeing those negative traits repeated in his life.

So every day Kirk awoke on the _Enterprise_ he made two promises to himself. Firstly, he would never become over inflated with the power of his role. Secondly, he would not become his step-father.

Come Hell or high water, James T. Kirk would not become a tyrant.

12. **Joke **

Leonard McCoy sat alone in his office. It was late. It had been a long day on the _Enterprise_. Two major accidents in engineering, both happening within hours of each other, had filled his medical bay with ensigns and security officers for a good fourteen hours. Five major surgeries, countless minor procedures for sutures and burn repair, and an almost infinite number of 'look-em-over-and-send-em-out' checks had left him looking particularly haggard.

Scotty had promised to stop doing whatever he was doing to cause such disasters. McCoy wanted nothing more than to have a drink, slip into bed, and sleep until the next evening, but that didn't seem like a very wise idea. In fact it seemed all to lonely. A knock on the door called him from his self pitying downward spiral. "Doctor." Christine Chapel said softly.

"I thought we were fighting." McCoy offered no other greeting.

"We were." She said, taking a seat in his office.

"And you were going to look for a humanoid, remember?"

"Yea." She said with a relaxed smile. "I looked all over, but not one of them seemed to hold a candle to you. _Even_ if you forgot my birthday." McCoy stood up and poured them both a small glass of whiskey.

"Yea? What about that Andronian, in engineering?" The doctor's eyebrow raised.

"Oh yea... him." She bit back a smile. "Turns out he's gay. Would have been a go if he hadn't been more interested in _you_." At this McCoy laughed so hard he spit out half of his drink. Christine watched him appreciatively. "Funny thing is, you think I'm kidding."

13. **Baby**

"This..." Spock Prime's voice floated over the speakers as his image waved on the view screen. "Is the first Vulcan child born in the colony." On the other side of the transmission, Spock sat and observed the small child laying peacefully in his alternate-self's arms. The child was fully Vulcan, his ears were pointed and tinged light green, and his eyes were almond shaped and the darkest brown.

"Why is it that you wish to show me such being?" Spock asked.

"I only wish to inform you that the population is regenerating here in the colony. I estimate the birth of at least one child per season currently, and then that rate will increase with time." Spock Prime seemed a little... disappointed. He had expected his younger self to see the same beauty he saw in the new life cradled in his arms.

"This is acceptable news." Spock observed the child for a while longer. His hair, black as night, looked silky even through the grainy view screen. The location of the _Enterprise_ in relation to the Vulcan colony made it nearly impossible to get a clear transmission. "It is female?" He asked after a while.

"Yes." Spock answered with a slight smile. "She is a healthy female. Do you not wish to inquire as to her name?"

"I do not see how this would benefit me."

"It wouldn't. However, I shall inform you anyway. The parents of this child, along with the council of Vulcan, have decided to call her Amanda. After your mother."

Spock's breath caught in his chest, but he subdued the gasp. "It is not traditional."

"Little is anymore. We have done much for Vulcan, Spock, I believe this is their way of repaying us... in slight."

Spock did not speak, but he looked intently at the child again. With a slow and steady hand he reached out and touched the view screen where her hair was. It was an illogical action, no texture could be perceived through the slick monitor, but for a moment Spock's heart fluttered. When he next whispered his voice was only a fraction above audible...

"Live long and prosper."

14. **Bruised**

The Captain entered the bridge on that particular day full of good spirits, or as it was often perceived, arrogance. Everyone else was working duitifully and quietly. "Good day crew!" Kirk exclaimed loudly. He took a large bite out of the apple in his hand and made to sit down in his chair. He probably should have paid more attention to where his body was positioned and not the pretty new tactical assistant that was talking quietly to Chekov.

As it was, Jim _was_ distracted and missed his seat by at least a half a foot and landed promptly on his ass on the hard tile floor. His apple went flying and in an attempt to catch himself he looked even more like a fool. He cursed in pain. The bridge burst into laughter, even Spock managed a small smirk. Uhura looked at him with a cocky smile. "You okay, Captain?" He glared at her.

"Nothing bruised but my pride." He paused. "As you were, ladies and gents."

15. **Fencing**

Sulu hadn't seen these recordings in years. In fact, he wasn't even sure he _had_ seen them before. He lay in his quarters and watched with the match with the same wide-eyed wonder he had when he played. He remembered this match like yesterday.

Chekov emerged from the bathroom with a towel to dry the rest of the water from his hair. He observed appreciatively the prone form of his boyfriend, and then he noticed the images fluttering across the screen. Within minutes he was as captivated with the smooth movements as the other man.

"Hikaru..." He whispered after the match had finished and both of the competitors had removed their headpieces. Sulu had lost, but that did not stop the triumphant smile on his face. "That's _you_?"

"Yea..." The answer was followed with a combined laugh and sigh. "I used to be pretty good. And if I had won!" Sulu thought of it. "I would have been on my way to fame. But my style was off... so it was Starfleet for me."

"You were beautiful." The awe was completely evident in the young boy's voice. Sulu had to admit that it flattered him. He turned over and placed a hand on the other side of the bed. "Of course... you still are to me." It was so cliche, yet it was romantic.

He mumbled something incoherent as Chekov moved to lay down beside him. He ran a long hand through bright red hair. Chekov sighed contentedly and buried his head further into the crook of Sulu's arm. "Well then," He said after a while. "I'm kinda glad I lost."

16. **Pilot**

He had always wanted to fly. Growing up he would hold out his hands and make shuttle noises as he ran around the fields surrounding his home. He could do this for hours, between his homework and his sleep and his meals. His mother would often laugh and encourage him, but his father would send the ground quaking when he saw Pavel playing in such ways. "No son of mine vill put vis head in ze clouds! Dilithium mining... now zat's a man's vork!"

Thankfully his father spent most of those years off planet, bent in the mines that would eventually kill him, leaving his mother to nurture Pavel's free and intelligent spirit. She would tell him repeatedly not to worry about what his papa said... that he could do anything he wanted in life. Even if what he wanted was to spend the rest of his life flying trans-atlantic shuttles... she would be proud of him.

He tried a few shuttle simulation classes in his free time, but it was unfortunate because the turbulence of Earth's atmosphere and confined containment of the shuttle often gave him airsickness. He decided he liked math, statistics, and military tactics. He proved to be a quick learner in anything. He had dropped his dream of being a pilot in order to take up a tactical post aboard the _Enterprise_. In the end, he guessed, it was worth it.

Perhaps he could not become a pilot, but he assumed he did the next best thing, (not that this option would make his father much prouder)...

He fell in love with one.

17. **Dance**

It was, aside from translation and education, her favorite activity. She only wished that she could get Spock to partake in a little fun every now and then. She wanted desperately to replace his warm arms for those she currently held. Not that McCoy was a bad partner, he was exceptionally and unexpectedly good... she would have never taken the chief medical officer for a classical dancer.

Every time they passed him in their small waltz twirl, his face was stoic, a mask rapt with attention to her every body movement. The music hummed from the transmitter on the other side of the room. She was happy. Her smile was radiant. It was nice to see her happy. After a moment Kirk stepped in with Chapel and then Chekov joined toting Sulu reluctantly by the hand.

Spock observed the switch of partners so that now Kirk and Nyota were dancing together leaving Chapel and McCoy to their own devices. Spock felt something tug at his heart... jealousy? No... sadness? Most likely. He closed his eyes and let the easiness of the music wash his brain.

Someone coughed gently. Spock opened his eyes to see Nyota standing alone in front of him. "Dance with me." She said with a small smile. He looked her in the eyes, she seemed radiant even still. She wasn't even sure he would reply, but he reached out and took her shoulder. Her skin buzzed with the warm contact.

She wanted more than anything for him to sweep her onto the floor along with everyone else, but instead he removed his hand and looked away. Her face fell. She composed herself quickly.

"I cannot. You know this. It is illogical for you to ask me otherwise. The Captain appears, however, to be a willing partner."

"I'm sorry." Her tone was unintentionally harsh. "I should have known." She turned on her heels. She ignored Kirk's waiting stance and stormed right out of the door. Upon catching Kirk's questioning glance Spock merely answered, "I do not dance."

18. **Simple **

"So!" Scotty said to those seated in front of him. "It should be easy enough." He wrote several long strings of variables and mathematical symbols on the clear board in front of him. "Just move this over here, solve for this, and then insert the standard set of conditions... here... here... and here..." With each word he circled something. "Followed by some standard variables here... here... and here..." Again with the circles.

"And then if we just enter this whole strand of data into our main processing center than we _should_ be able to achieve the desired result. Which is?" He waited for an answer from his extremely quiet audience. When they were unforthcoming he drew a picture on the board.

"Pie, sir?" One of the men asked. He was clearly confused. His eyes were squinted.

"Ah! That's not just any pie... that's Shepard's pie... from our replicators!" Scotty couldn't have smiled any wider The crowd was unresponsive. "It's quite simple really, let's hit it again and then put it to work boys. We're having pie tonight!"

19. **Shit**

"You lied to me!"

"It was not lying as much as it was concealing the truth from you."

"Semantics. You guys saw each other and the universe didn't come crashing down around us! You could have done this all the while and saved me any trouble with him... you... whatever!"

"Anger is illogical. I did not mean to deceive you. I would never intend that."

"Well you did. Do you have a _logical_ explanation for that?"

"Yes."

"May I hear it...?"

"Jim. I felt it helpful to promote a friendly relationship between the two of you. It was a moment of weakness on my part. Having you back again... I wanted things to turn out the same in your reality as they had in mine. With all I had changed I wanted to make things right."

"Wait. The same... meaning?"

"In my time, Jim, I was not engaged in courtship with Lieutenant Uhura."

"Okay... so you wanted me to jump in on the two of you? Make it right by breaking you up?"

"It could be put that way. In my world, Jim, you and I grew to be _good _friends."

"Ummm... do you mean... you and I..."

"Yes, Jim... selfishly I wanted to allow myself of this universe the same pleasures I received from a life with you."

"Oh, shit. Really?"

"Yes, Jim. As I stated before... I would not deceive you on such matters."

"Umm... well... was it _good_ at least?"

"Very much so. In fact there were times when..."

"Stop. Stop talking. Please."

"I apologize if I have troubled you..."

"No. No, its fine... it's just... you _hate _me."

"My mother used to tell me that the bully in the fourth grade was mostly motivated by a secret liking of the person being bullied."

"Shit."

20. **Love**

"If this doesn't work..." Spock began, standing in the highly advanced ship and looking at the _Narada_ looming before him. "Please tell Lieutenant Uhura..." Tell her what? That he _loved_ her? Surely not. He did not love her. At most he enjoyed her company. He felt comforted by her. But he did not love her. At least he did not think that he loved her.

He always thought that love would be a definite emotion. With Nyota it was always fog and mirrors. He did not know one moment from the next if he loved her. He did not know if he wanted to love her. "Tell her that I..." He was unsure of how to finish.

"Spock... It'll work. Trust me." Good thing he didn't have to.

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**A/N: **

20 did occur on the Vulcan ship before Spock flew into the _Narada_... I like it... because it seems to show his hesitancy. I'm not sure if that's out of character, but I know I like it. But my favorite in this one is tied between 13 and 16. I absolutely adore Chekov and Sulu and can't seem to write anything but fluff between them. I'll try to make some more serious improvements. Least favorite would have to be 18... I thought the pie was funny at first... and now I don't see it anymore. Plus Scotty seems OOC. Thanks everyone for reading! Please review and stay on the lookout for more!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

In this chapter... implied Nyota/Spock, Chekov/Sulu, implied McCoy/Chapel. There's a bit more testy material... we see McCoy angst, and I'm not even sure its canon angst. Still don't own Star Trek. Enjoy!

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21. **Comfort**

"You wanna talk about it?" McCoy eyed Uhura over the rim of his glass. He was drinking water; she was drinking scotch. Nyota had never ran to a man in times of trouble. She had always been able to handle things, whether her emotions or her actions, for herself. In this case, however, she had needed a drink, and McCoy had the goods. It was only logical that she was sitting across from him now. There was also the slight part of her that didn't really want to be alone.

"He said I was an illogical and emotionally motivated being." She took a drink of her scotch and tried to ignore the tears welling in her eyes. She tried to tell herself that they were from the alcohol burning strong in the back of her throat, but she knew that was a load of bull shit. "That I lacked the mental faculties to effectively constrain emotion and physical response."

McCoy wasn't going to pretend to understand that, but even for Spock-speak it sounded unnaturally harsh. He watched Nyota's lip tremble. "The worst part is... he doesn't even _realize_ that he hurt me." She had been hurt... cut to the quick. "I wish I knew what to say kid." And he meant it. He really wanted to make her happy, but as he had nothing that would accomplish that he settled for pouring more scotch into her glass. She thanked him. It wasn't like she expected him to have all the answers. She expected him to have alcohol.

She knew it was the only comfort he was able to offer.

22. **Multiplication**

"They're so cute!" Kirk exclaimed, holding one of the small furry bundles close to his chest. He tickled it below what he guessed was its chin... did small balls of fur even have chins? He didn't worry on it to long, content with exclaiming again the cuteness of this new furry object.

"They do seem to be aesthetically pleasing." Spock commented from his position behind the captain. McCoy shot him a glare that was equally returned. The last thing he needed was the Vulcan getting all sentimental on these hazardous little bits of fur.

"I know! How could these pose a danger to the _Enterprise_ Bones? Sometimes I think you're just paranoid." Kirk sat the thing down and turned to face his chief medical officer. They formed a nifty little triangle. Kirk tried to reason with the medical officer and Spock even put in an interjection every now and then.

For a moment McCoy couldn't speak. "Look!" He exclaimed finally, pointing at the table. Kirk turned around and gasped. "We turned around and there were two and now there are three. These things multiply like rabbits, Jim, in fact they're _worse_ than rabbits."

"It appears the doctor is right," Spock conceded. "It would be best to dispose of them as soon as possible."

"But Spock... look at them... all... four of... five... six?"

"Try ten." McCoy said, his eyes glaring at the captain. "We need to get rid of these now before this becomes a situation."

"Now don't exaggerate Bones." Kirk said slowly. "I can only count... ten... fifteen... thirty... fifty...?" His face fell. "Okay, maybe I see your point..."

23. **Truck**

Christine Chapel wouldn't have thought Uhura to be good company at a bar, but as it turned out she was about the best friend to go out and get wasted with during a two day shore leave. They had been drinking and dancing since ten o'clock. It was two in the morning now, and the bartender hadn't even begun to consider it closing time.

"Our men are out doing their own thing..." Uhura said loudly over the pulse of the music as Christine ogled a very handsome cadet. "So it would be entirely logical for you to talk to him. Kind of a look but don't touch method."

Christine sent her one of those 'you-sound-like-Spock' looks that Uhura received often these days and then smiled, taking a step towards the cadet. "But I like touching." She said with a wicked glint in her eyes.

"But you have to _work _with Bones for the foreseeable future... so cheating isn't an option. If you wanna break it off you gotta lay it down nice and slow."

"I don't want to break it off." Christine said, suddenly sobered.

"Well then... just go have fun."

Three hours later Nyota gave up the dance floor for a barstool. She searched for the glint of Christine's blonde hair just in time to see them slip out of the door on the arms of the same handsome cadet. She followed quickly.

They were, predictably, headed to his truck. Well, he was headed that direction tugging Christine reluctantly along. She tried to slur out a protest but it wasn't effective. Nyota appeared by her sides in the seconds it took him to fish his key out of his pocket. She admired the vehicle.

Her voice was friendly but her face was not. "If you don't mind I'm gonna take my friend home now..."

"Well, yea... I kinda do mind... Lieutenant." The last word was said with a bit of disrespect. She smiled and nodded. "We were just headed back to my place..." This was going to require a different tactic.

"Nice truck." He seemed taken aback by her sudden compliment. To struck, in fact, to act when she took Christine around the shoulder and guided her away. About fifteen feet away she looked back over her shoulder and shouted loudly, "That truck's a fair compensation for your small penis, don't you think?"

24. **Water**

A human being could live for weeks without food; however, a human being could not go three days without water. He would die. Sulu considered this fact. It was one he wished he did not know. The landing party had been abducted two and a half days ago. Uhura and Spock were working feverously to communicate with the hostile inhabitants of the unknown world, but they were running out of time.

He knew that a lot of the stress among the crew came from the fact that the captain was in that landing party. He couldn't help but wonder if they even once thought about the young boy with bright red hair that had been so excited to be participating in his first landing party. The boy who had kissed him goodbye and when Sulu had told him to be careful whispered soflty in his ear, "I always am." Had they thought about him?

25. **Lock**

The whole point of the exercise, Kirk recalled, had been to promote teamwork and understanding of various cultures and duties aboard the ship. Plus it had looked fun. He had already apologized profusely for his error, but neither Spock nor Scotty would look him in the eyes. He really did feel bad about it. It was intended to bring everyone closer.

He hadn't really intended for the two of them to end up handcuffed together... he really hadn't. That had been luck of the draw. He also hadn't really intended to lose the key. That had been _bad_ luck. He had really thought he had another key hidden somewhere in the cushion of his captain's chair... but in reality there were some crackers, a couple pennies, and a old piece of paper... no keys.

So now Scotty complained incessantly that nothing was going to get done in engineering. Spock sulked his way through any activity aboard the bridge. Even Nyota was beginning to get moderately annoyed that she could no longer have any alone time with Spock. She would glare at him, and mutter under her breath in a very violent manner that if he didn't find the key soon she would hurt him. He believed her.

This went on for about four days before McCoy came sauntering into the bridge. "Damn it Jim, I told you not to leave your shit lying around my office." He placed the small silver key on the arm of the captain's chair. "It's been there for four damn days. I hope it wasn't anything important." He walked out mumbling something about captain's having a bit more responsibility and kids who can't even keep their room's clean running Starfleet...

26. **Slip**

In the given circumstances there was not a single ounce of his action that had been logical. As much as he tried to find a way to fit the words into a logical pattern he could not. The only attribute that popped to mind was a very simple, very human, slip into subconscious action. He tried to meditate, to block the feelings he was currently struggling with, but his mind would only replay the event over and over again. He was besieged by guilt. He was in a committed relationship with Nyota Uhura. It became the mantra he repeated to himself over and over again.

His world had no place for further slips in his emotional and physical control. He was in a committed relationship with Nyota Uhura. Especially when said slips involved Jim Kirk. He did not have any spare silk in his complicated web of control to dedicate to Jim. Spock wondered when he began to think of him as Jim and not captain... when had his mental faculties started slipping? Was that what had led to today's unfortunate slip in physical separation from him?

Chances are, Spock reasoned, he was making a much larger deal of the incident than necessary. Kirk probably hadn't even noticed the brief period of physical contact. People accidentally brushed past each other every day. Especially in close quarters. Especially in the mess hall. Especially when they were talking. Especially when they were both reaching for the same paper. But Spock had to wonder if today's slight brush of hands was truly an accident... _I am in a committed relationship with Nyota Uhura_, he reminded himself again. It had to have been an accident.

27. **Class**

If there was one thing James T. Kirk was less than used to being told it was that he had class. He didn't have class. He might have been suave. He might have been lucky with the ladies. But class? Hell no. He wasn't anything close to classy. Or at least he hadn't been.

Kirk could never remember putting on a tuxedo, even for his senior prom. He could never remember trying to mind his manners around those of importance. Manners be damned... and the establishment be damned too. He hadn't needed them. He hadn't needed class.

However, presiding over the _Enterprise_ meant many formal affairs in which not adhering to dress code was not an option. He was representing too many people to display bad manners. Any negative action on his part would be amplified and projected negatively on the rest of his crew and the rest of Starfleet. He would not have that...

Now it seemed that in an incredibly short amount of time Kirk had changed an incredible amount. He looked himself over in the mirror. Dress uniform, clean hair, clean shaven. He exuded confidence. He was becoming a spokesman for the establishment he had so easily damned as a kid. He was, in a way, no longer a rebel.

McCoy called this growing up and said that a lot of time responsibility could cause it to happen.

28. **Vacation**

Almost dying had a way of bringing people together. It had a way of making someone realize how much they cared about someone else. So, the day after Chekov was released from the medical bay following the return of the abducted landing party, Sulu requested a two day semi-vacation from the bridge. He needed to focus his attentions elsewhere at the moment. Thankfully the captain had understood and let him off the hook.

It was with an angry relief that Sulu allowed Pavel to collapse in his arms that evening. Wet tears fell down both of their cheeks. "I'm so wery sorry." He pleaded. Sulu quieted him with a violent kiss.

"I thought I would lose you. I was scared to death that I would lose you." It was prudent that the boy understand this. Chekov nodded. His lips felt bruised, but he rejoiced because he was alive. They lay like that for a while, huddled around each other. Eventually Chekov drifted into a fitful sleep and Sulu lay awake listening to his slow even breathing and knowing he was not alone anymore.

In the morning the boy wondered why Sulu hadn't already left for the bridge. Afraid he was running late, Chekov tousled his lover's hair and woke him. "The Keptan will be expecting you." The bright blue eyes suspended over his face were the most beautiful things Sulu had seen.

"I'm on vacation... so I could spend time with you." Chekov was equally entrapped in Sulu's dark chocolate gems. He liked this idea... a lot.

"Are we going somevhere, then?" He asked in a tone of faux innocence.

"Oh, trust me..." The voice sounded almost primal. "Pavel... I have no intentions of leaving this room."

29. **Dream**

"Spock..." Kirk began a little hesitantly. "What did you want to be as a kid?"

"It is quite apparent that I wanted to be a scientist, Jim, or else I would have taken the logical path for the field I was interested in."

"But if you couldn't have been a scientist... what would you have been?"

A pause. "I do not know." Spock's expression was somewhat puzzled.

"Really? I always wanted to be an architect. But... you have to have good grades."

"It is my understanding that your marks in Starfleet were above average."

He ignored this. "So you really don't know what you would have done?"

"Well, I suppose I never considered any option besides science."

"Hmph."

"This displeases you?"

"It's just strange... usually every kid has a dream job. Racecar driver, jet pilot..."

Another pause. "Perhaps I am not being truthful... There's always been something I have found pleasing that I would enjoy attempting to recreate. It is rather illogical."

"And what's that? I promise I won't laugh."

"Classical folk music... circa the 20th century Americas." Needless to say, Kirk broke his promise.

30. **Today**

Today was his daughter's 18th birthday. He thought with dismay about all the things he had never been able to experience with her.

Her first boyfriend. Her first car. Her first kiss. Her first prom. Her first college acceptance letter. Her first heartbreak. Her first scholarship. Her first failing grade. Her first job interview.

He had missed it all. All because of his damn ex-wife. But, he reasoned momentarily, it was probably better that he wasn't in the picture. That way his daughter could grow up to be the best woman she could be, without images and ghosts of her dad haunting her. It was best that she never know him, or at least never remember him. It saddened him. But it was true.

Bones was never meant to be a father. He drank to much. He cursed to much. He hated to much. He was afraid of to much. Until Starfleet he couldn't really hold a steady job.

Part of him still hated it though. He hated the fact that his own flesh and blood had been stripped from him. He had never been permitted to send her any birthday gifts. Or any Christmas gifts. In fact, he wasn't allowed to have any correspondence with her at all.

Would he really have been that bad with her? Would he really have screwed her up so much that for him to even see her face was detrimental? He wanted to be able to say he was proud of her. But he couldn't even do that...

All he could do was know it was her birthday. And he could celebrate that happy day alone, thinking about her.

Thinking about what was so damn bad about himself that he didn't even get the opportunity to love her like he should have.

* * *

**A/N:**

"Nice truck... sorry about the small penis." Was originally seen on a bumper sticker. I have nothing against people that drive trucks... I just thought it was funny. On another note to save my hide, I really do like Uhura. I think she's pretty awesome... but I don't like Nyota/Spock... at least not for this story. Favorite would have to be 29... least favorite 28. If you have seen anything in the past chapters or if you seen anything in those forthcoming that you would like to see extended, let me know! I'm looking for a bit of a longer project. Thanks everyone! Review and stay tuned for more!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**

Chekov/Sulu and our final Nyota/Spock, leading to entry into Kirk/Spock friendship. Still don't own Trek. Enjoy!

* * *

31. **Mother**

"Commander Spock? May I speak to you for a moment?" Chekov stood at the door to the science lab.

"You may, Ensign."

"Thank you very much, sir." The boy was clearly nervous.

"Please sit down..." Spock pointed at a stool on the other side of the lab table he was working at. "And speak, Ensign."

"Umm... well I think you know that my mother recently passed away." Spock's shoulders visibly tensed. "And I was just... curious... as to..."

"You believe that since I have incurred a similar tragedy I may be able to guide you through your own." Chekov's eyes looked sad as he nodded. The first officer reminded himself that the boy before him was only eighteen. Still a child. "As a Vulcan, my ways of confronting my mother's death are different than yours."

"Oh. Perhaps I should go, then..."

"However, I am aware that the least I could do is listen to your worries and provide you with logical answers." It was an offer, Chekov realized... Spock-speak for 'Talk to me.'

"I am afraid I will forget her. I am sad because she is dead. I am angry... I am a well of feeling I cannot control. Sulu tries to make it better but he doesn't know what to do."

"Logically, as long as you keep your mother in memory you will not forget her."

"But thinking of her makes me sad, angry."

"As it should." The answer that passed from Spock's lips surprised even himself. "In such a situation, when someone is taken from us before we are ready for them to leave... sadness and anger are expected." He paused. "We must work past them and find happiness yet again."

"It's hard."

Spock's tone was almost comforting. "It will be hard to be happy, but we must allow ourselves joy in things." The Vulcan wondered when he began to say 'we' instead of 'you'. For how long had he been talking about the both of them, and not just the Ensign? _The whole conversation has been about the both of you_, an inner voice prompted.

Chekov's eyes shone a bright blue and he wiped two tears from his cheeks, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"It is illogical to apologize for an emotion you cannot control." It was comfort to the Ensign and to the deep, swelling pain that had developed in Spock's chest. "And I certainly do not ask you too."

32. **Drunk**

He was a clingy drunk, which might explain why he had fallen into bed with so many women. He was a loud drunk, which would explain why he had started so many fights over the years. He was a funny drunk, which definitely explains why people enjoyed his company at bars. What no one knew was exactly what kind of drunk you had to be to solve complex logarithms blindfolded. It didn't matter... Kirk was one of those too.

33. **Storage**

It had been high school since she had done something like this, Christine realized. McCoy was busy kissing her in all the right places, and she conceded that she should have been focused on him and not her memories. But really? How often did two people over thirty hook up in a storage closet at work? The last condition didn't count, Christine reminded herself. They _lived_ at work. Privacy was hard to come by so this wasn't really whorish. It was... opportunistic. And you know what they say... when opportunity knocks...

Oh wait... Christine separated herself reluctantly from the doctor in front of her. That was _real_ knocking. Knocking on the door outside of the closet. The knob had to have rattled without them knowing. Damn. They were caught. The key was turning. McCoy sent her a daring glance and then spoke up... "Do you think you could give me just a second to get some things in order in here?" He was buttoning his shirt, she was straightening her hair.

"Doctor I see no reason for you to have locked yourself in my storage closet." Oh great... it was Spock. Christine could think of a thousand other people she would have wanted to have caught her having sex. Spock ranked just a very small smidge above her father.

"Look Spock, just give me a second." He assured that both he and Christine were in decent shape and then unlocked the door and opened it. He strode out a met Spock's eyes. There was a silence. It only took the Vulcan a moment to peg the situation.

"May I suggest an unoccupied closet in the fifth level medbay the next time you wish to engage in sexual congress? Some of my equipment is very sensitive and should not be subjected to such disruption."

McCoy turned an angry red. Christine turned on her heels and walked away; she intended to find a small, isolated corner of the world and die.

34. **Stars**

"The beauty of the stars is a bit strange, don't you think, Pavel?"

"Why?" They were laying on their backs on foreign terrain. Night on this planet, Spock had calculated, lasted twice as long as night on Earth. In the light of such information, the landing party had pitched tents; a fire was burning in the center of the compound. The weather was a bit cold, but the clear sky provided an excellent view of the star field. As a cold wind blew across the tents, Chekov moved a little closer to Sulu.

"Essentially we fall in love with giant balls of burning gas. We're captivated by them... when really it sounds disgusting said out loud."

"I don't think its so much the stars we fall in love with..." Chekov concluded after a while. "I think it's the thrill of it all. Wanting to know what else is out there. Exploration." They fell silent once again. "Not knowing what we're going to find. That's why it's beautiful. It's an unexpected discovery. We can say we found it, so it's beautiful."

"Pavel?"

"Yes, Hikaru?"

"_You _we're my unexpected discovery."

35. **Letters**

Dear Daddy,

I don't know if you'll believe me, but I really hope you will. I've been writing you letters every month since I was twelve years old. I would give them to Mom to send to you. Turns out she would throw them away and leave me thinking you were to busy to deal with me... that you didn't care. I'm so sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry I believed her.

But that's in the past. I can't change it. I'm eighteen now, and I'm sending my own letters. There is so much I want to tell you, but I don't know where to start. I still remember you, or at least I do a little bit. I remember you smelled like new leather and some form of bleach. I remember you took me horseback riding when I was three. I remember that you sat on that saddle with me for four hours, and even though you couldn't walk the next day, it didn't matter because I was happy.

Mom tries to tell me you were a horrible person... but I don't believe her. Because the Daddy I remember didn't drink and stumble around... he bandaged my skinned knees when I fell off of my first hover-board, and then healed them with kisses and a popsicle. The Daddy in my head never yelled and screamed at me if I knocked something over... he said a quiet prayer over the grave of my goldfish, Zeus, who died when I was two.

I want to tell you that I love you. I've been trying to do that for six years. I told you all about my first boyfriend, my first car, my first prom. But you never answered. I guess I just thought you were busy, so you ignored me. I want to tell you that I don't hate you, Daddy. I never did. Even when I thought you ignored me, I never hated you.

I feel there is so much to say to you, but I'm not even sure you want to hear it. I hope you do, but I can't be sure. I'm attending Starfleet in the fall, and I thought that maybe the next time the _Enterprise_ comes back for shore leave... well maybe we could see each other?

Until then, much love and all my prayers,

Your Daughter

36. **Home**

"Ow!" Nyota exclaimed as her younger sister plaited her hair. The pulling and wrenching of the comb was incredibly uncomfortable. Her sister apologized but Nyota just smiled. "Don't worry about it. I have a hard head, remember?"

The younger girl laughed. "Yea, I do. Surprisingly enough. I haven't seen you in _years_." The tone was just a little bit accusatory. "But I suppose that's just the exciting life of lieutenant aboard the _Enterprise_. All done, Ny." She handed Nyota a mirror and watched her examine the plait.

"It's beautiful. You've learned well."

"I'm just thankful you didn't get _all_ the family talents." They both laughed. Their small talk continued until an older voice called from downstairs. Dinner was ready. "Coming Mama!" They replied in synch. Dinner was magnificent. It was her first non-replicated meal in five years. The smells were almost intoxicating. Cloves and cinnamon and thyme and cracked pepper. Halfway through the meal her sister leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Isn't it great to be home?" Nyota could only smile. Yea... it was.

37. **Knees**

He couldn't take his eyes off of Sulu's knees. Kirk had to admit it was a strange obsession. The Captain was usually alone in the workout room aboard the _Enterprise_, but for the past two Wednesday's it seemed that Sulu's schedule was oddly similar to his. They would work in silence across from each other on the stationary bicycles.

It was here that Kirk got his first glimpse at Sulu's knees. He couldn't help but notice the small pieces that moved under the other man's olive skin every time the joint bent. They moved independent of the muscles in his legs, and they were cloaked in a shiny scar tissue. He had no idea what they were.

Deciding that it was strange to simply sit back and stare, Kirk chose today to ask Sulu about the particles that had taken residence in his knees. "Those are some strange scars, Mr. Sulu." Kirk commented from his stationary bike. Sulu didn't miss a beat.

"They're not really scars, Captain."

"What are they then, if you don't mind?"

"When I was a kid," It seemed Sulu didn't mind at all. "My teacher made me kneel on grains of uncooked rice." The young helmsman could remember the feeling of the harsh white grains as they dug into his knees. He could remember going to stand up and feeling blood run down his legs. He could remember trying to wash the granules out of his skin, but they had become so deeply entombed in his flesh that they wouldn't leave. He recounted all of this to Kirk. The other man winced.

"Why did he make you do that?"

Sulu smiled almost ruefully. "The punishment was intended to humble me... because I always had the highest marks in class."

Kirk laughed unexpectedly. "Looks like you showed him. I mean you're working on board the _Enterprise_. Plus you're about the most humble guy I know."

There was a pause for a moment and then Sulu shared the laugh... "Yea, I guess I did."

38. **Fall**

It wasn't like he was afraid, Scotty reasoned with himself. What was there to be afraid of? Okay... she was pretty. She was smart. She was green. She was pretty. She had a great voice. She could handle a wrench better than anyone else in engineering. She was pretty. She was also young. She was no match for any ship system. She could hack anything. She could stop anyone dead in their tracks. Oh, and did he mention she was pretty? It was hard to focus to much on what was coming out of her mouth when she was standing directly in front of you. Or at least it was for Scotty. He found it hard to focus on anything except what she'd look like without her close. He imagined she'd look like Christmas.

It wasn't like he was in danger. It wasn't like a rejection would so far defeat his pride that he would never be able to get up again. Scotty _always_ got back up. He _always_ got back in the saddle, to use one of Dr. McCoy's expressions. There were always other girls. Usually there were other fist in the sea. Scotty wasn't _usually_ afraid of rejection. But the thing was... Scotty didn't _usually _fall this hard.

39. **Goodbye**

"Spock..." Her voice shook only slightly. She ran her thumb along his jaw line. He closed his eyes and took a steady breath. It was almost as if he knew what was coming. With his pale hand he touched her cheek. There was no spark in the gesture. "I can't do this anymore." He opened his mouth to speak, to agree, but she only silenced him with the touch of her soft finger on his lips. "It's not you." She said amazed at how cliche that sounded. "It's never been you." His hand was still on her cheek. "It's been a... pleasing year." The tears were forming now. With a soft brush of his thumb he wiped them away.

It pained her to see him like this, and she could not prolong that pain to herself. If it continued to hurt like this she would never walk away. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him for a final time. It was chaste, and he was almost non-responsive. He removed his hand from her cheek. She turned to leave his quarters. At the door she looked over her shoulder and gave him a very sad smile, "Goodbye, Commander Spock."

40. **Friend**

Kirk left it to the two most logical people on board this ship to have the most illogical break-up. Or maybe that was just Kirk's skewed view of 'logical' break-ups (most included screaming, crying, and drinking). He had the choice of confronting either Spock or Nyota on the matter. He was two steps from the door to her quarters when he remembered that she really didn't like him _that _much. He promptly turned and searched out his first officer. The Vulcan was in the recreation room, studying the pieces of the tri-level chess board. There were many things Kirk could have said to start the conversation if it had been Bones, or Scotty, or even Sulu... but Spock? He was unsure...

"Are you okay?" The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Spock turned his head quickly and eyed Jim. A long and very awkward silence ensued.

"I am... satisfactory." He said finally. He placed the chess piece he was currently holding on the board. "I assure you that my and Lieutenant Uhura's recent decision to disband our relationship will in no way affect our work on the bridge."

"Good," Kirk walked over and sat in the chair across from Spock. "Because I was going to suggest that if it was a problem we have her transferred to the _Jaxton_." He smiled. Spock did not even blink.

"I believe that would be considered favoritism, Jim... in addition, her talents are exceptional in comparison to mine." Kirk thought about this for a moment.

"But I need you around Spock. You're my friend." Wait... that was wrong. He had meant to say 'first officer'... right? He hoped maybe Spock hadn't heard, but that was a _stupid_ thought. Spock heard _everything_. He considered his statement a moment, and surprisingly he found his label was appropriate. The past year had cultivated between them a very enjoyable form of friendship.

However, Kirk felt he needed to apologize for being so upfront, and he was about to open his mouth when his eyes caught Spock's mouth turn up slightly at the corners. "Perhaps a game of chess?" Spock said. Kirk shook his head clear of the amazement he felt at what he now realized was Spock's smile. Why had he never noticed that before?

"Yea... yea that sounds great."

* * *

**A/N:**

I really liked how this chapter came together. All around I liked 40 and 31. 36, I feel, lacks a lot of the sentiment I wanted it to have. If you have seen anything in the past chapters or if you seen anything in those forthcoming that you would like to see extended, let me know! I'm looking for a bit of a longer project. Thanks everyone! Review and stay tuned for more! (And yes, that was shamelessly copied from the previous chapter...)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**

This chapter may make more sense if I remind you that not everything is in chronological order... Today we have a lot of Kirk/Spock centric pieces and some Sulu/Chekov. Very angst filled chapter. I tried to incorporate a couple bits of humor. In the end I liked it... And even after five chapters I don't own Star Trek. Enjoy!

* * *

41. **One **

"What you are referring to," Spock Prime's voice floated from the view screen, "Is a mental exercise. It is one of nearly a hundred that I must execute simultaneously in order to maintain control over my emotions. It is likely that my alternate self will employ the same methods."

"Hundreds?" I asked. I had never known it was that hard. "If one of these methods should fail - what happens?" It seemed like a stupid question. What happened was obvious. Spock had demonstrated quite clearly all of the following:

Anger happened. Rage happened. Pain happened. One snap in neuron firing... one slip in control and you ended up sedated in the med-bay, arms and legs restrained with everyone afraid of you. The only person who wants to see you is the person you took your anger out on. The person who just seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And I want to see you desperately but McCoy says that's a bad idea...

Your hands were bandaged from where knuckles had pounded flesh and then metal until they shattered and bled. Your chest ached from where you were thrown against a wall and shot with a phaser set to stun. When that didn't keep you down you went back for round two until McCoy could hit you with the right level of sedative. Now you probably don't even want to wake yourself up to face the monster you think you've become, even though I would forgive you for it... because we'd been through hell together, and this was no different.

"Jim, in that occurrence the consequences would be disastrous."

Yea... tell me something I don't know.

42. **Engineer**

When it came to their jobs they had been like high school girls gossiping over the cutest boy in school... of course they did their fair share of that too. They would sit cross-legged on the floor and talk about the future late into the night. Nyota wanted nothing more than to set foot on the _Enterprise_, no matter the job. Gaila was determined she was going to become the flagship's Chief Engineer.

But then that day came, and they received crushing news... Neither were destined for the _Enterprise _like they had imagined. Nyota had changed that... for herself... but she had been so caught up in promoting her own desire that she hadn't remembered Gaila. She could have said that her room mate was an amazing engineer... that she could do anything aboard the _Enterprise_... that she needed her to be on that ship. If she had done that then Gaila would have had a higher probability of surviving.

As it was only one of them had gotten to fulfill their dream.

That wasn't really what bugged Nyota the most, though. The most troubling fact of the whole scenario was that there was no way for Gaila to have known Nyota had been aboard the _Enterprise_ and not the _Faragot_. So the chances were, Gaila had died thinking Nyota had died also. But the point was she had died believing that she would never have the opportunity to be the _Enterprise_'s chief engineer, and Nyota would never be the communication's officer... because in Gaila's mind neither of them were on that ship.

And that made Nyota feel like a liar.

43. **Old **

"Twenty years aboard this damn ship?" McCoy expressed loudly as he put down his tray at the table in the mess hall, "I have to say, Jim, I feel pretty damn old." Jim looked up and smiled his adventurous smile.

"Hey, Bones, no one is making you stay."

"Yea and if I left, kid, you'd have no one would be around to save your ass. Then what would you do?"

"Doctor, if you desire to retire from your position, I am perfectly capable of providing suitable protection for the Captain." Spock said from his position beside Jim.

"Yea..." Kirk said with an even bigger smile. "He's good at saving my ass."

"Indeed." The first officer and captain exchanged a glance and McCoy huffed.

"Oh, get a room." He mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me, Doctor?" Spock asked with a slight twinkle behind his eye.

"Nothing, Spock. Just nothing." McCoy huffed again.

"So, Bones, you'll never guess what Spock showed me... apparently there's an empty storage closet on the fifth floor med-bay... you and Christine should totally..."  
Spock, who'd gone green around the ears in embarrassment, cut off Kirk very quickly. "I believe the doctor is already acquainted with this particular closet, Captain, and it would be unnecessary to continue speaking."

Unable to restrain himself Kirk blabbed, "It's a great place to hook up."

McCoy stood up very quickly and glared at Kirk. "I'm too damn old for this shit." He then turned and walked away. "I don't want to know about your escapades!" He relayed loudly over his shoulder. Kirk looked at his first officer, amazed.

"Was it something I said?" He noted Spock's ears were still tinged green.

"Yes."

44. **Laundry **

It was laundry day, and in the somehow fair choice of tasks aboard the _Enterprise_ Uhura had drawn the short straw and was stuck folding the various undergarments from the ship's bridge crew. As Uhura pulled the clothes from a dryer into a small metal cart she couldn't help but notice the predominate light pink hue to all of the clothes.

"You know... Scotty... there's a _reason_ you separate the colors from the whites." Uhura tried her hardest not to laugh. She held up a white, or what used to be white, t-shirt. "Or at least the reds from the whites. Because I'm cool if you get my nightclothes pink..." She threw the shirt aside and dug through the pile in front of her. She found the item in question. "But I can hardly think that the Captain will feel the same about his socks. Or..." More digging. "Sulu probably won't appreciate the pink briefs..."

"Aye... I see where you're coming from Lieutenant..." He looked at the pair of briefs that she held up in her hands. After a moment he said, "But there's only one problem regarding Mr. Sulu's briefs..."

"And what's that?" She resumed folding the laundry with a smile on her face.

"I'm darn sure those were already pink."

45. **Parachute **

Kirk was very drunk. So drunk in fact, he was falling from the planes of logic and reason and into the realm of stupidity. It had been logical to invite Spock out to the bar. It was stupid to expect to have a good time with his first officer in a place where personal contact was inevitable and the music was played forty decibels to loud to be considered safe.

So because he was completely sober at the time, Kirk had suggested that the two of them split the party and take off to a secluded park in the middle of San Francisco. They had been sitting across from each other at the top of that hill for three hours, underneath the light of the moon and the stars. Kirk had not ingested one drop of alcohol yet somehow he was now completely overcome with an emotion he could only liken to being drunk.

The conversation had been slow and calm and intelligent. Spock's manner was relaxed and easy, or at least in comparison to his normal behavior. Kirk was surprised at how much he simply enjoyed being in the his presence. It was now that he realized he was plummeting from those planes of logic that said they were friends and nothing more... He tried to release a mental parachute to slow his decent. Slow himself to keep from hitting the sharp rocks of Spock's inevitable rejection. Damn, what had brought these thoughts along? Was he drunk and he just didn't know it?

Another hour passed and the conversation continued. Spock flashed that smile Kirk had only seen once before. It made his insides flip and his parachute snag over some unknown force in his mind. When he looked back in the years to come he wouldn't know what had caused him to behave the way he did that night. Without speaking, Kirk leaned forward and placed a small kiss on the Vulcan's lips.

For a moment Kirk's parachute remained snagged, he was not falling but he was not safe. Above him, sanity and logic... below him the rejection ready to drive through his core. He contemplated pulling back into safety and saying it never happened, but the slight movement of Spock's lips against his own was all it took to remove all thoughts of rejection. The return of the kiss was enough to snap the strings of Kirk's parachute of sanity and send him plummeting, and he couldn't have been happier.

46. **Lonely **

It wasn't that he hadn't fought with boyfriends in the past. It wasn't that he didn't know how to concede he was in the wrong. It wasn't that he was afraid that apologizing would knock him down a level, because it wouldn't. It was, in all honesty, that he hadn't fought with Chekov before. He had never seen those beautiful blue eyes turned against him in anger. He had never felt his heart so torn as when the teen stormed out of his quarters, cursing and crying.

He had sent the boy multiple messages through the comm. He had apologized, he had profusely expressed that he was in the wrong, but Chekov would not meet his eyes when they were on the bridge. It had been two days. Sulu figured it probably wasn't healthy to need someone so much that two days of absence left such a gaping hole in his heart. All the same, among the crew of the _Enterprise_ he had never been so lonely.

47. **Birthday **

It was Chekov's birthday. Somewhere between the hellos and the cutting of the cake, McCoy had indulged in a bottle of fine Romulan Ale. He then suggested a game of truth or dare in which Spock ingested two Hershey bars and Nyota lost three pieces of clothing. In the same game Kirk kissed Christine and Chekov within five minutes of each other. McCoy and Sulu had a jealous bone to pick but drown their thoughts in more alcohol. The evening ended with almost everyone out cold on the floor, even Spock, and as he curled himself around his barely sober boyfriend Chekov whispered that it was a shame he didn't get to open his presents. He didn't see two red-shirted security officers override the door and begin snapping some very incriminating photos... God, they would regret this in the morning.

48. **Few **

Few people had seen Nyota Uhura cry. In fact if she didn't count her mother, Gaila, and Spock the count would be zero. She developed an unprecedented control over her emotions, and should those walls every begin to crumble she was able to make a quick retreat to some place where she was safe to lose it all - in private.

She made one such retreat from the bridge today, asking in a choked voice to be excused from duty and ignoring Spock's questioning gaze that followed her down the hallway. In her quarters she locked the door and sat down on the couch, her face in her hands. She cried.

The door chimed. She ignored it. It chimed again. She ignored it again. The next sound she heard was the door override and the careful and controlled footsteps of Spock. She growled at him, "Go away." From her spot on the couch she met his eyes. Her own eyes were bright red, her cheeks streamed with tears.

"Lieutenant, you are in emotional distress." Such a bland statement and yet it could break her.

"How dare you do that! What you did with Kirk... how dare you!" She said angrily. "In front of me and the rest of the world. You practically molested him." She spat the last word, more tears accompanied her accusations. It took him a moment to realize that she was referring to the two finger touch, a Vulcan kiss, the two men had exchanged roughly thirty minutes prior. It had been, in Spock's mind, brief and unnoticed. On this occasion, he was wrong. She was still crying, she was unable to catch her breath.

He moved quickly to kneel in front of her. Placing a gentle hand on her knee he spoke in even tones until she could breath properly. "Nyota..." He said softly. "You were aware of the my and the Captain's relationship before today. It is nothing new to you."

"But it was, Spock." She said even softer. "You're not mine anymore..."

"Our action solidified in your mind that I would no longer be available to you as a romantic interest?" She nodded. He reached out and pulled her close "While this may be true, Nyota, I have been and always will be here for you. There is nothing Jim can do to change the fact that you were my first..." He trailed off.

She removed herself from the embrace. "Why are you here?"

"Because we are friends, Nyota Uhura, and this is what friends do."

49. **Translation **

HE SAID: If I may speak freely, to partake in such an endeavor, Captain, would be highly illogical. The chances of successful completion of this plan are less than two point five percent. The angle of trajectory and the difference in mass caused by the gravity of this planet, along with the atmosphere's high temperature and extremely volatile gas levels make entry in anything other than a specially constructed shuttle highly difficult. A human jump is an unwise and highly unnecessary solution. However, if you insist to continue, I ask that you wear this transmitter that will allow me to track your position upon entry.

HE MEANT: Jim, really? You're being a dumb ass. There's really no way this is going to work. Let me explain why with science and numbers because that's what I'm good at. You need some serious shit to land here, and a person isn't going to cut it. But I know that you're not going to listen, so if you would just like to inform me of approximately where I can expect to find you when I have to come save your ass later, that would be nice.

50. **Empty **

The med-bay was silent except for Spock's breathing and the sound of Jim removing the restraints of the unconscious man. "We stopped sedating you three hours ago..." Kirk said to his first officer. "As fast as your body burns through the shit you should be awake by now. Come on now, you can't hide forever." McCoy tensed his hand around a hypospray of sedative as Spock's eyes opened quickly.

"Jim." The man said. His eyes looked empty, pained... "I can't... you shouldn't... unsafe."

"Bullshit." Jim said, glancing back at McCoy. Understanding but not condoning, Bones left, but not without positioning the hypospray just within Jim's reach. It seemed by the time Jim looked back at Spock the man had composed him self slightly.

"Captain... I don't want to hurt you again."

"Me?" Jim laughed. "I've been in barfights that left me looking worse."

"I should be sanctioned, removed from duty."

"No. It was a slip up. It's been a tough week and you were exhausted. Plus I was pushing the wrong buttons."

"This cannot be blamed on you."

"Then it can't be blamed on you either, Spock." There was an intense moment of staring between them until Spock looked away. Kirk absentmindedly examined Spock's now un-bandaged hands. The other man did not object to the personal contact. "You gave us quite a scare..." Kirk trailed off. "Especially McCoy... don't think he'll want to be alone with you for a while." This was intended as a joke, but it went unnoticed. Spock examined the room around him. He noticed a cot on the floor and several items of clothes.

"Is this where you have been acquiring rest?" Kirk nodded, there was no need to lie. "Why not in your quarters?" Kirk thought about this for a moment...

"Because they seem damn empty without you."

* * *

**A/N:**

Well that's the end. 45 was by far my favorite, 49 and 42 were lacking my opinion. Let me know what you think! Thank you for reading through this work, stay tuned for more Trek-centric features. And remember if you have seen anything in the past chapters you would like to see elaborated on or extended, I'll be happy to oblige.


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